


do we simply stare at what is horrible and forgive it?

by Suchagayhumanbeing



Series: you want a better story. who wouldn’t? [3]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Prison Spencer Reid, Suicidal Thoughts, TW: Self Harm, TW: Suicide, alright folks: after two fics of no comfort, completed series, completed work, conclusion, graphic depictions of self harm, if you like being sad abt reid, return of derek morgan, season 13, some comfort in this fic!!, this fic and series is for you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:27:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29016600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suchagayhumanbeing/pseuds/Suchagayhumanbeing
Summary: spencer reid is caught on the ledge of a bridge and now must confront who he is facing the consequences of what he almost did. (not a stand-alone, conclusion to a series)
Relationships: Derek Morgan & Spencer Reid
Series: you want a better story. who wouldn’t? [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1983397
Comments: 6
Kudos: 54





	do we simply stare at what is horrible and forgive it?

**Author's Note:**

> TW: graphic depictions of self harm and suicidal thoughts

Spencer Reid is on the ledge of a bridge. And he’s done. 

He’s fucking done. 

He’s lost so much, he’s lost too much, he’s lost parents and brothers and friends and he’s learned his lesson by now because he is standing on the edge of a bridge and he’s calculating if he would die if he jumped and he’s smiling when he realizes it is.

He’s just done. He's done with losing people and he’s done feeling the crushing guilt that comes with every loss at his hands. He's done fighting. 

The smallest of waves smile up at him as they crash into the water from which they came and he’s thinking about evolution from the beginning of time. 

Spencer wonders if his 14 year old self would have swallowed those pills if he knew where he would’ve ended up. 

If he saw how he dies at his own hands anyway. 

Spencer Reid lets go of the railing and allows himself to sway slightly in the breeze. 

“Goodnight.” he thinks, and then says to no one in particular. “I’m sorry it took me this long to end up here.” 

* * *

Someone comes and says his name. Someone comes and grabs his legs and pulls him down from the railing because Spencer doesn’t have the strength to pull himself down from the brink of death. Someone is looking him in the eye with anger and sympathy and the deepest sorrows at the possibility of what could’ve happened. 

“Hey, Morgan.” Spencer says, trying not to collapse. “I, um-“

Morgan doesn’t give him time to answer, pulling him into a hug. “Yeah, kid.” he answers, understanding immediately. He always did. “I know. You’re okay.” 

Spencer just lets Morgan hug him, not having the strength to do anything but hold himself back from climbing back on the ledge. “Are you-“ he starts, breathing in the almost forgotten scent of Morgan’s cologne. “Are you really here?”

And the only reason he asks is because he’s read exactly 9,373 pages on the subject of the brain creating false realities and hallucinations in a last minute attempt to save itself. 

“I’m here.” Morgan says, releasing Spencer and holding him at arm’s length. “I’m here.”

* * *

Morgan doesn’t let Spencer go home alone. And that’s fair, he supposes. Morgan’s afraid he might come back. He’s afraid he’ll get a call from Prentiss. He’s afraid Spencer will climb back on that ledge. 

And that’s a fair thing to assume. 

So, Spencer lets Morgan lead him somewhere, all he can track is lefts and rights and continuing straight and eventually he’s being seated and Morgan’s hand is slipping from his shoulder and a door is closed. 

They drive for exactly 10 minutes and 27 seconds. They make 15 right turns and 30 left, and they pass exactly 18 stop signs, and Morgan attempts to talk to Spencer 3 times. He is met with silence each time. 

Not that Morgan would’ve expected any different. This is exactly how it was on the flight back after Tobias. This silence is exactly the same when Maeve was killed because of him and Morgan drove him home. This is how it was after Prentiss died. 

Nothing but silence and earth-shattering grief. 

* * *

“Hey,” Morgan says, gently shaking Spencer to drag him out of his light sleep. “C’mon kid.”

Reid opens his eyes and sees where they are. Morgan’s house. 

He shakes his head. “No. Not here.”

Derek looks at him, confused. 

Spencer just shakes his head again. “Not here. I can’t let anyone else see me like this.” A pause. “Please.”

Morgan sighs. “Ok. Then where?”

He just lays his head on the window and closes his eyes. “Just take me home.”

(He doesn’t want to go home. He wants to go back to that bridge and be left alone. He wants everything to stop.)

Morgan takes him home. 

* * *

He won’t leave Reid alone. And that’s fair, he supposes. Morgan is the only barrier between going back to that ledge. 

There’s a sort of odd silence, when Spencer unlocks the door and they step into the apartment. A ‘what happens now?’ silence emanating from both of them. 

“I’ll put on coffee,” Morgan breaks the silence, patting Reid on the back lightly, slipping off his coat and setting it on the couch. 

“I, um.” He starts, his voice hoarse. “I was going to get coffee. When I left. W-we’re out.” 

Morgan nods, “Ok, kid. Why don’t you try and get some rest?”

“I’m not-“ Reid tries to say, starting to protest, but Morgan just holds up a hand.

“No argument, Reid. Just try. I’ll be out here if you need anything, I promise. Okay?”

He hesitates, then nods. “Fine.”

* * *

Spencer tries to sleep. He really does. 

But every time he closes his eyes, his memories mesh together in the cruelest way possible, almost as if his brain is laughing at him, laughing at how weak he is. Laughing at his helplessness. 

Spencer can’t sleep.

Laying in his bed, tangled sheets disregarded to his floor, he can hear Morgan softly speaking on the phone. He hears a quiet “Kiss the kids goodnight for me, will you?” And Reid’s heart pangs with guilt.

_He was keeping Morgan from his family._

_Selfish._

_Burden._

“Shut up.” He mumbles, turning on his side and burying his head into the pillow.

_Pathetic. Can’t even deal with yourself?_

_You don’t even deserve to die. You deserve a crueler punishment_

_Murderer_ _._

“Stop.” He insists, louder this time. The slight mumble of Morgan’s voice stops.

“Reid?” A soft knock on his door follows the concerned voice. 

Spencer closes his eyes and steadies his breathing, taking deep breaths to make it seem as if he were asleep. The door creaks open, then closes a few moments later. Morgan’s muffled voice from outside the door started again. 

He thinks about how he should’ve killed himself to save Morgan the trouble of taking care of him. 

A distant phone rings, followed by a quiet “I’ll call you back, baby.”, footsteps and rustling of a jacket. 

“Hello?” Morgan answers, and Spencer sits up, straining to hear the conversation. “Hey, Prentiss. Yeah, he’s here. He’s okay.” Reid held his breath, afraid it would make too much noise. “It’s his mother. She had a severe breakdown at the facility she was at and they asked Spencer to go down there, but he just brought her back to his apartment.” A pause. “No, she doesn’t remember him yet. They’re both asleep.” A quiet laugh. “Yeah, he didn’t want to sleep but you know, the lack of coffee lulled him right into bed. Okay. Yeah, he won’t be able to come in, everything with his mother is too much right now and you know how hard he’ll push himself if he knows you called.” Spencer froze. “Alright. Tell everyone I miss them. Bye, Prentiss.” A beep signaled the end of the call. 

“Why did you tell her I couldn’t come in?” Spencer is out of bed and opening the door before he could even tell himself to stop. 

“Reid!” Morgan exclaimed, turning around, at first looking surprised but then sighing. “Should’ve known you’d be listening.”

“Why did you tell her I couldn’t come in?” He just repeats, feeling a small bubble of anger rise in his chest. 

“Because you can’t, Reid.” Morgan responds, dropping Spencer’s phone on the table. “You need to rest, and you can’t just keep distracting yourself from the reality of what happened by working yourself to death. You need to acknowledge what you did. What happened to you.”

Spencer scoffs, feeling unfamiliar anger. “I know what happened to me.. Better than anyone. And I’ve dealt with it.” He paused. “I need this, Morgan. I need work. I need to save people.”

“I know, Reid.” He steps closer, looking at Spencer with sympathy. “I know. You couldn’t save people in prison and you were left with nothing but your own thoughts and the notion you might be guilty, and it ripped you apart. You need to figure out who you are. Who you’ve become.”

“I don’t-“ Spencer’s voice cracks slightly, and he blinks quickly to keep tears away. “I don’t want to.”

He is nothing without work. And as for who he became, is it really any different than who he’s been? A guilty, guilty man who was bound to wind up in prison for what he’s done. For what he couldn’t stop. 

“I know, kid.” Morgan walks over and wraps Spencer in his arms, letting tears wet the shoulder of his shirt. “I know.”

“I have to go in.” Spencer half-speaks, half-sobs, his words muffled by Morgan’s shoulder. “Please. Hand me my phone.”

“I can’t, kid. You have to face what you did, what you almost did, and you can’t do that if you’re running around, trying to fix everything but yourself.”

Reid doesn’t mean to shove him away, but it’s happening before he knows it. Morgan doesn’t even look surprised. “Morgan, please.” He levels, trying to conceal his shaking voice. 

Derek just shakes his head. 

“I’ve already faced what I did,” He lies, and they both see right through it. But he continues to beg because he is going to be scrubbed raw if he stays here, he is going to be forced to look in the mirror and confront the man staring back at him, and he won’t do that. Can’t. 

Morgan just stares. He doesn’t even have to dispute the claim. Spencer collapses onto the couch, burying his head in his hands. He needs to be alone. 

“I think I’m going to try and get some sleep.” He says, and by the look in Morgan’s eyes, he knows that’s not true. But he just nods, and sits next to him. 

“I’ll be here.”

* * *

  
  


This isn’t right. 

They shouldn’t be here.

Reid is in his bed, staring at the closed door and thinking about how this isn’t fair, it isn’t right.

Spencer needs to go, he needs to go in, he needs to get on a plane and go to wherever the team is, whatever murder they’re solving because they need him.

(and he needs them. because who is he if he isn’t helping people?)

He needs to work because someone is out there in danger from a killer he probably could’ve built a profile on by now, and maybe could’ve caught and someone right now is being killed because of him, because he was selfish enough to climb onto that ledge. 

Stupid. 

He's the most selfish person he’s ever known.

He needs to go, but he is trapped by someone who shouldn’t even be there in the first place.

A chime sounds from the living room, not from his own phone. 

Morgan needs to go home.

He needs to go home because he has a family, he has a wife. 

(He has something Spencer will never have. And that’s okay because he’s come to terms with it, he’s accepted it.)

But Morgan got out for a reason. He didn’t need to be reminded of his past anymore. 

Spencer is keeping him here. He's keeping him from his family. 

He is nothing more than a drain on the world right now.

Another notification, this time he can tell it’s from his cell phone.

It’s no doubt from Prentiss. asking for help on the case. 

And he can’t do anything about it because he was, is, selfish, because he was on that bridge and was stupid enough to get caught and now he is ruining the life of some family out there who needs his help. 

Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

Fingernails dig into his palms, and he can hear layers of skin ripping from the pressure of his fists, but he can’t find it in him to care. Warm liquid blinks in the dimness of his room, droplets forming a small pile of blood in his hand, soon tipping over the edge of his palm. 

It doesn’t even hurt. 

He needs it to hurt. 

Then comes the other hand, blood looking at him before sliding onto his gray sheets, but it doesn’t hurt either. 

He needs it to hurt, he needs himself to feel it.

He needs to suffer. 

His nails meet his arm, his hand clawing at his skin, leaving bright red trails behind. tiny droplets of red peek from few of the marks, but not enough. 

Because it doesn’t even hurt. He feels nothing but a void inside him, sucking all the pain from his body, and it’s not fair. It’s not fair because he needs to feel it. He needs to feel the consequences of what he’s done.

The other arm comes next, his fingernails scraping deeper and more red slides down his pale skin, reddening with blazing trails by the second. 

More blood comes, but no more pain and he’s suddenly tempted to get a knife from the kitchen, to force the hurt out of him.

But Morgan is there, somewhere he really shouldn’t be, worrying about someone he shouldn’t be worried about.

He just goes deeper, his dull fingernails scraping over raw skin, deepening the red. 

Spencer doesn’t even realize he’s crying until tears fall into his lap, mixing and diluting the drying blood from his palm. 

He goes to the other arm with fading trails and bites his lip from crying out in pain as he finally feels it, the glory of hurt. 

He laughs quietly. 

Finally. 

He goes to redden the tracks again, finally feeling the pain, before his arms are forced down. 

Spencer barely has time to comprehend how someone came in without him noticing before Morgan is talking to him, a blur of words coming too fast at him. 

He just stays silent and waits for Morgan to let go.

Every sound is as if he is underwater.

“...promise not to hurt yourself, all right?” Morgan’s muffled voice says.

Spencer just nods, already feeling the void deepen in his chest. His arms are let go, and they fall lifelessly to his side.

He is lifted up, his arm wrapped around Morgan’s shoulders, and he leads Spencer to the couch, gently setting him down. 

His arms don’t hurt anymore. 

But Morgan gets the first aid kit all the same, unwrapping bandages from the kit, and starting to clean the wounds with alcohol. 

“...careful, this will sting a bit, okay? Reid?”

He just nods. 

He watches the alcohol dabbed onto his wounds, and feels nothing. 

No pain. 

Nothing. 

It takes Derek exactly 3 minutes and 24 seconds to bandage and clean his wounds.

“Reid? Reid!”

“yeah.” Spencer responds, his voice barely a whisper.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He just shakes his head. “no.”

“You’re going to have to, eventually.”

“I know.”

A pause.

“How can I help.”

Reid shrugs, then let’s a few seconds of silence go by before: “You can’t.”

He goes to his bedroom and tries to shut the door but Morgan just gives him a look. 

Spencer climbs into bed and can see Derek looking at him with concern watering in his eyes. 

He turns away.

* * *

Spencer sleeps for 20 minutes and doesn’t dream. 

He thinks this is probably the closest thing to a miracle he’ll ever get today. 

Morgan has moved from the couch into his room, slumped against his wall, arms crossed and head bobbing slightly as his breathing deepens. 

Reid sits up, and looks at him. His rescuer. The one who saved him from ridding the world of Spencer Reid. 

He can’t decide whether to be grateful or to hate him. 

He reaches to throw the comforter off him, his legs burning up, but a sharp stab from his wounds runs up his arm, making Spencer gasp quietly in pain, squeezing his mouth and eyes shut to try and make as little noise as possible. 

“You okay, Reid?”

_shit._

“yeah,” Reid breathed out, slowly putting his arm down. “Fine.”

“I have some ibuprofen in my car, we can go-“

“I’m fine, Morgan, really.” Spencer tries to look sincere, neither fooling himself or Derek, but he remains seated. 

There are a few moments of silence, before Morgan clears his throat. 

“Ready to talk about it?”

“No.” 

“You-“ he starts, but decides against a lecture. “okay, kid.”

“I'm sorry.” he says, and looks down, fidgeting with his bandages. “It’s just-“ 

This is far more painful than anything his nails could’ve ever done. 

“I don't think I know who I am if I'm not saving people.” Reid spits out, and regrets it. He immediately apologizes. “Sorry.”

“You are saving someone.” Morgan says, standing with a slight groan and coming to sit across from Reid on his bed. “You’re saving yourself.”

Spencer opens his mouth to say something, but Morgan gets to it first. 

“You deserve to be saved, kid. I know you think you don’t, I know you think you always come last. but you deserve to be rescued, you deserve to be put first by yourself, for once. If only just this once.” 

Spencer wants to refute that as soon as it comes out of Derek's mouth. What is he talking about? He doesn't deserve that. He's guilty. He's a monster. He doesn’t deserve anything good life can offer. 

“Hey.” Morgan says, interrupting his thoughts. “I mean it. You’re not guilty, but even if you were, guilty men are still worthy of being saved.” 

Spencer just nods. there is nothing he can do but pretend he believes it. 

“I know you don’t believe it.” Morgan says, looking Reid in the eye. “But try. Truly try.” 

“How do I do it?” Spencer starts, blinking away his watery eyes. “How do I stop myself from climbing that ledge again? I don’t want to.”

That's a lie. He wants it more than anything in the entire world.

But he knows what will happen. 

(SSA Emily Prentiss? We have unfortunate news concerning one of your agents, a Dr. Reid?...” 

“Diana Reid? Do you remember Spencer? your son?”

“Morgan?...It's Emily. something happened. it’s Spencer...he...”)

So instead he asks Morgan: “how do I keep myself from that ledge?”

Morgan’s face softens, his eyebrows crinkling in an uncomfortable concern. 

“You take it one day at a time, Reid, and you find things to live for until they overpower any urge that could drive you to that ledge. You live life one day at a goddamn time.”

* * *

One day at a time. 

What did he live for?

* * *

He lives for his mother. His team members. For the fact that he is better and stronger than his father is.

He lives for teaching. To keep the memories of his loved ones alive. 

“Thomas Merton...he’s the one thing you can never take from us.” 

“Another game of chess, kid?” 

He lives to learn. He lives to offer statistics he’s memorized, he lives to read crime reports and books and plays at 2,000 words per minute. 

He lives to save people. He lives for others. 

He lives to read. He lives to see musicals, he lives to learn other languages and he lives to see other people smile when he shows them that he can memorize Star Trek episodes. 

And he tries to live for himself. 

* * *

Morgan agrees to let Reid go back to work when the team returns from the case. And sure enough, exactly 12 hours and 3 minutes after he said that, Prentiss calls Morgan to see how Spencer is doing. 

“He’s okay. I finally managed to talk him into releasing Diana into the care of another, better facility. She’s taken to it better, and her memory’s improved.” A pause. “Yeah, he’s good to come in. I’m certain. Tomorrow at 8? Sure. Alright, talk to you later Prentiss.” Morgan hangs up the phone.

“Thank you.” Spencer says, breathless from relief. 

“Of course, kid.” 

* * *

Morgan insists on driving Spencer back to work. 

The ride is mostly silent, mostly filled with concerned side-glances from Derek and the quiet bounce of Spencer’s leg.

There is nothing said until they cross the bridge. 

“Stop the car.” Spencer blurts out, and Morgan does so in shock, but manages to lock the doors before Reid can climb out.

“Why?” Morgan asks, taking the keys from the ignition. “I thought you were moving on.” 

“I am,” Spencer sighs, moving to face Morgan. “I just- I just... please. You can stand next to me Morgan. I...I need to get out.”

He looks at Reid, his face showing no indication of what he is thinking. Then, to Spencer’s surprise, unlocks the door. 

They both get out, looking both ways into the secluded road. 

Reid practically runs to the railing, gripping it until his fingers turn numb from the cold metal. 

He stares into the water, into the gentle waves calling out for him, for Spencer to come home to them. 

Even with Morgan there, it takes everything he has not to jump. It takes every reason for living to not jump the railing as fast as he can, too fast for even Morgan to catch him.

His phone buzzes in his back pocket.

“New case. Can you be here in 20?” -Prentiss

One day at a time, he thinks to himself.

“Be there in 10.” -Spencer Reid

One day at a goddamn time.

* * *

Here’s how it goes: 

Reid goes back to the bridge and climbs back on the ledge.

He looks down into the water begging him to come home. 

He thinks about prison. 

He thinks about who he is, who he became, what he will be. 

He thinks about Derek Morgan’s words.

And he steps down. 

Spencer Reid, the survivor. 

* * *

He comes back to that ledge every day and stands on it, inches away from death. And every day, he steps down.

It never gets any easier. 

But he does it all the same. 

**Author's Note:**

> so sorry it took so long for this conclusion guys!!!!!! i was so busy with the end of the semester and has a run in with writers block as well that i completely didn’t get around to completing this. I hope you guys enjoyed the series, let me know in the comments if you want!! leave a kudos/comment if you enjoyed :)) feedback, as always, is immensely appreciated. to anyone that stuck around while i wrote this, i love you guys <33 and to any other readers as well, thank you so much!! hope everyone is staying safe :)) to be honest, i cried while editing this. the reason i started this series is because i felt like they never really expanded on any of reid’s trauma in the show. sure, they gave him a BUNCH of trauma, but they never truly addressed it in the long term. but anyway, if you read this far, <333!!!


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